Cerridwen

As the year's end falls,
A decline into slumber,
The Queen of Summer gives up the land,
With a sigh of fallen leaves.

The Earth becomes a crooked woman,
With bold and hazel eyes,
The Lady in her Autumn gown,
Like the bronze in every leafy spear-tip.

When we see your Summer glory fade,
The leaves fall from the trees,
When  there seems no trace of you upon the Earth,
Then shall we look for you in the cream-fat moon.

In the darkest times,
When even that moon is night enshrouded,
And the world seems cold and barren,
We shall not despair.

For when you are hidden,
You are but renewing,
When you are waning,
You merely make ready to wax anew.

You are always within us.
Scatterer of seeds,
By the well-spring of our very beings,
You await us always.